


If Only I Knew

by polkachipped



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Blood, Depression, Gen, Oops, Suicide, Suicide Notes, Swearing, Wounds, all that jazz, i killed logan, im really bad at tags im sorry, thats not a spoiler thats the entire damn story, you know the deal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 06:23:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14910041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polkachipped/pseuds/polkachipped
Summary: logan? Logan? o my fuckn god, he fuckn dead.





	If Only I Knew

**Author's Note:**

> i entered this a while ago in an angst challenge thingie on tumblr so i was like 'eh why not post it here too'
> 
> the prompt was i had to use one of the phrases "I hate you so much" "I didn't know, you have to believe me" or "im trying all the time, but its just too hard"
> 
> so i used all three
> 
> bc im an extra bitch
> 
> my tumblr is @apples-n-machetes btw

_ I should have noticed the signs. I should have noticed the signs. _

 

Virgil stared down at Logan, eyes wide with shock as he tried to snap out of it, to think of what to do, to scream for help, to do  _ anything. _

But he was frozen. 

 

_ I should have noticed the signs. I should have… Why didn’t I notice the signs? _

All he saw was red.

Logan was lying in a pool of his own blood, curled up under his desk, unmoving. He didn’t shake, he didn’t breathe. The life was seeped out of him, the once lively logical trait now replaced with a frozen, stone cold blue  _ corpse.  _ Virgil couldn’t really see his eyes, the side’s glasses stained with blood, but he knew that if he could see them, they’d stare mockingly into his own, making fun of his idiocy, his oblivious nature.  _ I should have noticed the signs. Oh, god, Logan.  _

 

Logan’s hand slumped to the side, wrist carved into as a razor clattered out of his grasp.

 

_ Why? _

 

Everything Logan did that rung Virgil’s alarm bells was now surfacing in his mind. Why did he just brush him off? Did he not make enough time? What did he do wrong?

 

_ ‘I’m perfectly fine,’ Logan had said, deep purple circles like wilting violets lining his eyes, definitely not makeup. ‘I will get rest in just a moment,’ he had said, before collapsing in his own room a week later. _

_ ‘No, I’m not overworking myself.’ _

_ ‘Yes, I did get enough to eat.’ _

_ ‘No, I don’t need to sit down.’ _

_ ‘Yes, I do believe I’m a useful part of Thomas’s mind.’ _

Virgil glanced down at all the crinkled papers strewn about the room, most lying on the floor, and some covered in blood. It’s as if Logan had a tantrum before he did it. His room was never so disorganized. And somewhere in Virgil’s mind, he remembered making a mental note to have a serious talk with Logan. But he never did.

If only he were more organized like him.

If only he knew what exactly they could have done. Done differently. More efficiently. Logan would have known what to do to help him, of course. He would have had all the facts. But he didn’t let them help him. He pushed himself too far and now he did…  _ this. _

 

Why is  _ this  _ the  _ one situation  _ where Logan can’t tell him what he did wrong?!

 

“For the man who is logic personified, you- heh, you sure could be irrational sometimes,” Virgil wiped a tear from his cheek, sinking to the floor. His black skinny jeans soaked in the blood on the ground, sticking to his knees, but Virgil found that he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything anymore.

How long had Logan been up here? No more than a few hours, at least.

 

_ ‘No, I don’t need your help with anything. You have your own duties to perform,’ Logan had said to Roman, before pulling out his hair in stress not thirty minutes later. ‘Yes, I can see fine,’ he had said to Virgil, before tripping over his own feet, eyes blurry from exhaustion. ‘No, don’t go to the trouble of making soup for me, Patton. I’m neither sick nor hungry.’ _

_ ‘I don’t have sleep deprivation.’ _

_ ‘I don’t see hallucinations.’ _

_ ‘I slept just yesterday.’ _

 

“I hate you so much,” Virgil growled at the corpse. “I hate you so much. You should have just  _ told  _ us, we- we could have HELPED you! God, I- what pushed you over the edge? Why this? Why was  _ this  _ better than simply having a word with us, why didn’t you  _ say something-”  _

He cut off his sentence when he spotted a few papers on the ground near him, papers that looked different from the rest. They weren’t neatly three-hole-punched, rather, torn out carelessly. Pen scribbles marked parts of the page, vicious, aggressive pen scribbles that tore a hole into parts of the paper.

Virgil slowly, hesitantly picked up the bloody page, careful to avoid the stains themselves. He gripped the papers with two hands to stop his shaking tremors long enough to actually read.

 

_ I tried to not be so emotionless. Emotions look like work. They look like an inconvenience. But they looked like they had their benefits. They looked… _

_ f̶u̶n̶ ̶ _

_ h̶a̶p̶p̶y̶  _

_ ̶f̶u̶l̶f̶i̶l̶l̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶ _

_ They looked like something I’d want to try and participate in. For research purposes, nothing more.  _

_ And I did it. _

_ I tried to imitate the rest. But I imitated too well. My emulation wasn’t perfect, but what I was feeling was something, and it was mine. _

_ Until it wasn’t _

_ Until it spiraled out of control and it wasn’t mine anymore.  _

_ I never found out what exactly this ‘it’ was, but it was terrifyingly deep. Deep and powerful.  _

_ I became tired. _

_ I became so, so, so very tired. _

_ I slept more than I’ve ever slept before during these months of the ‘it’ plaguing me every minute, but ‘it’ never seemed to go away and I only became more tired.  _

_ What an odd sensation, to become more tired after you’ve just slept. I’m not a stranger to sleep inertia, which is why I barely sleep. But this somnolence was something I couldn’t seem to get rid of. _

_ No matter how much I denied it. _

 

No. No, no no.

 

_ If the problem was simply drowsiness, there wouldn’t be a problem. But then, I experienced another symptom. A ‘stage two,’ if you will.  _

_ Virgil experiences this on a regular basis, I believe. Cognitive distortion.  _

_ I would have been more understanding had I known it felt like this. _

 

Virgil stopped reading as he saw everything become blurry. Tears filled his eyes.  _ Logan…  _ He wiped his eyes with his sleeve as he continued to read.

 

_ I would have been more patient with Virgil had I known how miserable an existence with this mindset is. I would have… tried harder. _

_ I tried. I tried every day. I’m trying right now. Trying to think of any reason not to do what I’m thinking of doing. I can think of many, actually. 32, to be exact. But they all pale in comparison to my reasons  _ to  _ do it. 79.  _

_ I’m trying, I really am. I’m trying all the time, but it’s just too hard. _

_ For a few moments, I did feel better. I thought maybe this is what you had to experience if you wanted to feel. I thought that maybe you had to earn your emotions this way. And I was feeling, actually physically  _ feeling  _ myself get better. Until one scenario, one scenario kept playing in my mind.  _

_ Robot. _

_ Robot.  _

_ Robot. Robot. Robot. Robot. Robot. Robo.t Rrobot. Rotbot. Robbot. The words blend together, Robot, Robot, Robot, Robot, how can you call me a robot after all I’ve been through, after everything I’ve suffered I’m still just a robot, robot, robot, robot, robot, I’m still just a robot to you.  _

 

Virgil blinked. Who was Logan addressing this part to? It hurt to see his neat handwriting spiral into something barely readable. Who knew one word could affect someone so heavily?

Virgil knew.

Virgil knows this very well. He is Anxiety, after all. Of course he would know how bad one word can be. No matter what the word is. He sniffled, beginning to read again.

 

_ Just a machine to spout useless facts, I’m just a primitive AI. No, not even an AI. A fax machine. A coffee maker. A toaster. Toaster in the bathtub- I don’t need a toaster to short circuit- because I’m a robot- robot robot robot. I’ll show them. I can’t be a robot. I can’t be a robot because robots don’t bleed. Do I bleed? I don’t remember. Of course I bleed. Do I? _

His handwriting began to stabilize again, letters becoming less scribbled and shaky, but it still seemed as if it was written in a rush.

 

_ Patton- You gave me the idea for emotions. I understand now. I thank you for the knowledge. I call you brave for managing to smile after fighting through this ‘it’. Did you experience an ‘it?’ You must have, for you feel the most emotions out of all of us. _

 

_ Roman- You give ideas in general. You’re emotional too- and despite having experienced heavy cognitive distortions, you remain the ego and confidence of Thomas. I admire that. _

 

_ Virgil- Y̶o̶u̶ ̶m̶u̶s̶t̶ ̶h̶a̶t̶e̶ _

_ ̶I̶ ̶c̶a̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶i̶m̶a̶g̶i̶n̶e̶  _

_ ̶I̶'̶m̶ ̶s̶o̶r̶r̶y̶ ̶ _

_ I̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶k̶n̶o̶w̶ ̶h̶o̶w̶ ̶t̶o̶ _

 

Virgil squinted at all the crossed out words before staring at the four words Logan left alone.

_ Virgil, I forgive you. _

 

A memory suddenly popped in his head, one that he didn’t even realize was relevant until now. 

_ ‘Careful, Romano. You might fizzle out the Robot,’ Virgil had joked, sitting with the others as he watched Roman finally beat Logan in a video game, Logan grumbling in frustration. _

It was a happy memory. One of the few happy ones that Virgil couldn’t attach anything negative to. 

Until now.

“I… Oh, god, Logan. I didn’t know. I didn’t know- I  _ swear,  _ I didn’t know! Oh god, I didn’t know, you have to believe me! I didn’t know!” 

Virgil was screaming now, fists raised up to his head as he saw the others pop in out of the corner of his eye, before he shut his eyes tightly. “I DIDN’T KNOW!” he screamed at the two sides, who were screaming at Logan’s dead body. “I  _ DIDN’T KNOW!” _

He was being held now, he didn’t know by who. All he could think was, if he didn’t make that comment, Logan could still be here. Here with them, and eventually he would have said something to the others, eventually everything would have worked out.

If only he  _ knew. _

But he didn’t. He didn’t know. 

 

Logan had deceived them all.

**Author's Note:**

> o o f


End file.
